Struck By Love, part two

Read part one here!

The woman in Mark’s arms struggled, but he didn’t let go. Damn, she was infuriating. Why couldn’t she see that she wasn’t okay? And he’d be damned if he’d let a woman he hurt wander away, and probably hurt herself worse.

He trudged up the long drive toward the house she’d pointed to, finally breathing when she stopped fighting him. He looked down to make sure she hadn’t passed out and found her staring up at him. Her green eyes had a gold ring around the middle and a chocolate ring around the outside. They were the strangest eyes he’d ever seen, and he was mesmerized. So much so that he stumbled over a crack in the driveway and nearly dumped her on the ground.

Her gasp shot straight to his groin, his pants tightening like he was a teenager seeing his first breast. Mark caught himself, holding her body close to his, and prevented either of them from getting hurt again.

“You don’t have to carry me,” she said in a throaty voice that made him wonder if she was as affected by their closeness as he was.

“I can’t see you hurt again,” he ground out, revealing more with his words than he’d intended.

“Oh,” was her quiet response. She pulled her lower lip between her teeth, the white contrasting sharply with the dark pink of her lipstick. Mark groaned as his pants tightened even more and picked up his pace, desperate to get her out of his arms before he did something stupid. Like kiss the woman he’d nearly killed, especially since he didn’t even know her name.

“What’s your name?” she asked in a small voice that didn’t seem to suit her.

Mark took the step up to her mother’s front door and set her down, her body sliding down his in a tempting erotic tease. Her eyes widened the moment she brushed against his erection. Mark sucked in a breath and squeezed his eyes closed, gently setting her away from him before his smaller brain took over and convinced the rest of his body to pull her closer and devour her.

“Mark Davies. I just moved here from the city.”

Mark could feel her watching him and prayed something would happen to break the spell he was under, knowing the only way he’d calm down was if someone turned a hose on him.

“Lindsay, what are you doing out here? And who’s this?”

Hose granted. In the form of her mother.

Immediately his pants felt looser and Mark was certain he’d survive.

He opened his eyes to see the two women embrace. The older woman had the same green eyes, but instead of rich brown hair, hers was more grey than anything else. She stood a good few inches shorter than her daughter, both of them making Mark feel like a giant as he towered over them.

“I’m sorry, ma’am, but I’m Mark Davies. I swerved to avoid a dog in the road and plowed into your daughter’s car. I offered to take you, and her, to the doctor. She nearly fainted and I don’t feel she should be driving.”

“Davies, huh? Any relation to Eleanor?”

“Yes, ma’am, she’s my mother.”

She eyed him as though trying to decide if she believed him. When she nodded once he knew he’d earned her trust. It was better than nothing. “Okay, you can drive us. Did Lindsay tell you where we’re going?”

A glance at Lindsay, with her head cocked to one side and her eyebrows raised, lips pursed, told him she’d tried, and he’d bulldozed right over her. “Uh, no ma’am, I didn’t give her a chance. She just mentioned the doctor.”

“I’m going to my oncology appointment at Memorial. Downtown.”

Shit. That was going to take an hour to get there, at least an hour for the appointment, and another hour home. His day was toast.

Mark looked at Lindsay again and decided in an instant it was worth it. Three hours in the company of a beautiful woman was a perfect way to spend his day. Of course he’d rather spend it with her tucked beneath him, screaming his name as she came apart in his arms, but he’d take what he could get.

Damn, his pants got tight again.

Mark cleared his throat and forced himself to look away from Lindsay to her mother, smiling. “Not a problem.”

Lindsay huffed out a breath, clearly not thrilled with the new situation.

“Well, why didn’t you pull into the driveway? I’m not walking all the way down there.”

Mark looked toward their cars, still linked on the road, and had to agree. It would be right of him to ask her to walk that distance. “What was I thinking? Of course. Lindsay, if I could have your keys I’ll pull your car into the driveway and then bring my truck up here to get you ladies.”

Lindsay reached for her side and came up empty, grasping at something that wasn’t there. “Shit. I left my purse in the car. And my keys.”

Panic tinged her voice. “Don’t worry. I’ll get it.”

Mark jogged back down the driveway, praying Lindsay could stay upright while he was gone. She seemed to be doing better, but the last thing he wanted was her to drop while they were standing on the concrete steps. That would only end badly.

He forced himself into her car and was immediately surrounded by her scent. “Fuck,” he swore quietly to himself. His pants were cutting off his circulation and her car was smaller than a toddler bed. He reached under the seat and yanked the lever to send the seat flying backward, not that it helped much.

Mark turned the key and thanked God when the car started up. The door and the entire side were pretty smashed, but if it started up it could be fixed. He steered around his truck and pulled into the driveway, parking the smashed up car near the house. He darted back down, with her purse and keys in his hand, and got in his own truck. He backed up and steered into the driveway, getting as close to the front walkway as he could.

Mark climbed out of the cab and darted around the front end, his arm sliding around Lindsay like it was the most natural thing in the world and offering his other arm to her mother. Lindsay stiffened beside him, but her mother was charmed, taking his arm and chatting about how kind he was.

At the door he released Lindsay opening both the front and back doors for them. “Oh, let me sit in the back,” Lindsay’s mother said. “I’d like to be able to stretch out my feet.”

“Mom, the front has more leg room,” Lindsay argued.

“Not if I’d like to rest my legs up on the seat. It looks comfortable.”

Lindsay growled something unintelligible as her mother moved closer to the backseat. Mark helped her up into the seat and closed the door for her, then turned to Lindsay. “Your turn.”

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